In the direction of south-south-east Mr. Carmichael said the country appeared most open.  A yellow flower, of the immortelle species, which I picked at this little bluff, was an old Darling acquaintance; the vegetation, in many respects, resembles that of the River Darling.  There was no water at this bluff, and the horses wandered all over the country during the night, in mobs of twos and threes.  It was midday before we got away.  For several hours we kept on south-south-east, over sandhills and through casuarina timber, in unvarying monotony.  At about five o’clock the little mare that had foaled yesterday gave in, and would travel no farther.  We were obliged to leave her amongst the sandhills.

We continued until we had travelled forty miles from Mount Udor, but no signs of a creek or any place likely to produce or hold water had been found.  The only difference in the country was that it was now more open, though the spinifex was as lively as ever.

We passed several quandong trees in full fruit, of which we ate a great quantity; they were the most palatable, and sweetest I have ever eaten.  We also passed a few Currajong-trees (Brachychiton).  At this point we turned nearly east.  It was, however, now past sundown, too dark to go on any farther, and we had again to encamp without water, our own small supply being so limited that we could have only a third of a pint each, and we could not eat anything in consequence.  The horses had to be very short-hobbled to prevent their straying, and we passed the night under the umbrage of a colossal Currajong-tree.  The unfortunate horses had now been two days and nights without water, and could not feed; being so short-hobbled, they were almost in sight of the camp in the morning.  From the top of a sandhill I saw that the eastern horizon was bounded by timbered ridges, and it was not very probable that the creek I was searching for could lie between us and them.  Indeed, I concluded that the creek had exhausted itself, not far from where we had left it.  The western horizon was now bounded by low ridges, continuous for many miles.  I decided to make for our last camp on the creek, distant some five-and-twenty miles north-east.  At five miles after starting, we came upon a mass of eucalypts which were not exactly gum-trees, though of that family, and I thought this might be the end of the exhausted creek channel, only the timber grew promiscuously on the tops of the sandhills, as in the lower ground between them.  There was no appearance of any flow of water ever having passed by these trees, and indeed they looked more like gigantic mallee-trees than gums, only that they grew separately.  They covered a space of about half a mile wide.  From here I saw that some ridges were right before me, at a short distance, but where our line of march would intersect them they seemed so scrubby and stony I wished to avoid them.  At one point I discerned a notch or gap.  The horses were now very troublesome